Of all the people that are online on facebook right now, why would you message me about your failing relationship?
I appreciate that you trust me with your problems, but I really don’t want to hear about them.
I don’t want to hear about how he doesn’t text you back anymore. I don’t care that he’s being flaky and that you’ve done “everything” to get over him. I don’t give a rat’s ass that you’re heartbroken.
Because no one has ever loved me to begin with.
Going off to college next year, at the ripe age of 18, I have never been on a date. Not even for a dance.
I’ve never had that rush of knowing that I’ll have a “good morning” text from that cute guy who sits next to me in English. I wouldn’t know what it feels like walking at night, holding hands with a boy, just WAITING for him to turn my chin for a kiss.
And I wouldn’t consider myself undate-able. I’m not heinous looking, or smelling, and I don’t have 53 cats to care to; I’m just eternally damned to be “the friend.” The one who gets shoulder punches and invited to the football games. But I like wearing sundresses.
So as I sit hear, juggling between ranting on LINS and feeding you good advice about what to do with ______ that I know you won’t follow, I want to cry.
Because I know if I had flirted with ______ instead of introducing you two, I probably could have got that kiss and those “good morning” texts. Followed by heartbreak.
The old saying is so true: it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.